


Kismet

by StumblesUponThis



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo III
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, M/M, Multi, Mythology - Freeform, Other, Paths Crossing, Romance, The Fates - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StumblesUponThis/pseuds/StumblesUponThis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kismet:<br/>-noun:<br/>1.) Synonym of fate, destiny<br/>Origin: 1840 - 50; Similar to Arabic 'Qismah', division, portion, lot,b fate and akin to 'qasamah' to divide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kismet

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I don't own'em but I sure wish I did. Blizzard wins.
> 
> A/N: Er, to any Diablo purists or fans out there reading this, I'll apologize first for the inaccuracies and total self indulgent writing headed your way. Ever since playing Diablo III and watching the RoS trailer, I got an idea playing in my head; there may be spoilers in this, but you guys must've at least played/wiki-ed the plot before you read right? Or, just enjoy the story. Also, this is like, a novel rewrite of the game (especially Tyrael's/Leah's role in the game.) So. Constructive criticism and pointers would be pretty nice, gotta get those juices flowing y'know?

'Hello, my friend. Stay awhile and listen...' - Deckard Cain

 

* * *

 

"Well," the sun was harsh and unforgiving as it battered on Thomas Peddler and his horses, the animals snorting and digging their hooves with unease as they encroached the borders of Tristram, the taint of death and destruction disturbing them, "That's as far as I'll go, sir, it's dangerous around these parts as it is, what with all those rumours about demons and such."

His passenger nodded with a cool smile. Jumping off his cart with unnatural lightness, the sands beneath the passenger's feet had barely shifted as he touched the ground. Thomas frowned, his passenger was a young man of Xiansai origin, what with the obvious tell of high embroidered collars and the armor of unique design, patterns of runes stitched artfully on vibrantly colored cloth. He even smelled funny too, the spicy scent of Caldeum's exotic spices and the fresh smell of ozone in the air surrounding him.

 

"I don't s'ppose yer one o' those mages are ye? Awfully dressed like'em." He voiced his question cautiously, unsure of whether to just turn tail and run for it, gold be damned; the rumors he's heard about the mages' guild in Caldeum fresh on his mind. The young man merely handed over his fare with an arched brow, tipping his strange hat to bid a silent goodbye; Thomas nearly protested at the sheer amount of gold, curiosity and reluctance churning in his gut.

 

"I can't accept this, sir! Just ain't proper --- " A sudden stillness overcame his passenger, and the horses neighed nervously, swaying side to side as they strained against their reins, agitated and frightened. The winds had stopped and the sun's light, once unbearably hot and burning, was gone. A dark shadow was cast upon them, the clouds above them bringing a stifling silence.

 

Then the undead broke free from the grounds.

 

The young man's voice, though like many a youth rather arrogant and willful, was surprisingly solemn with a smooth tenor that held no tremor of fear in the face of those monsters,

 

"Run." Thomas didn't have to be told twice, he fled, grabbing the reins and yelling at his horses to run faster, not forgetting to nab the bag of gold; the last he saw of the young man ---- no, the _wizard_ \--- was etched in to his mind, the lone figure standing proudly before the undead, his right hand a blazing inferno and his left a bright static of electricity as he struck the monsters, the wizard's lips mouthing a dangerous language as his body was swathed in a brilliant light of violet. Thomas could not tear his eyes away, hands nearly slipping the reins as he watched, in awe and in horror, as the wizard burned the abominations, wrapping himself in the midst of the raging inferno he conjured, his ethereal body aflame like a monstrous nightmare of fire and death…

 

But perhaps, that wasn't the most memorable thing about the young man, for what made Thomas Peddler snap his reigns harder against his poor abused horses like Hell itself was on his heels and his heart constricting in terror was the way the wizard had laughed, a horrifying parody of one: dark, feral and hungry. Worse than the moans and groans of the undead, he said at the inn to anyone who cared to listen, was the sounds of carnage and manic laughter. The eyes that glowed a terrifying power.

* * *

 

 

 

He doesn't know what had became of the wizard after, body slumped against a rickety barstool, only murmuring a drunken slur about him finding a fallen star, over the little village of New Tristram, where the dead are rising and demons hungry for violence and blood.

 

 

"Don't know --- " Thomas hiccuped at his third mug of ale, "don't know what he was blatherin' about, but said somethin' abou' a _'fallen star from the hea'ens'_ and all tha' horse shite --- " His current listener, was a tall, intimidating man covered from head to toe in an armor of ebony and raven black, his back strapped with two wicked looking crossbows of intricate design, he had half of his face hidden in a dark cowl of maroon; the stranger simply nodded and plied the man with more alcohol, keeping his lips loose and running. Others had avoided the mysterious man, murmuring the words 'demon' and 'tainted', but Thomas was conveniently halfway to becoming completely shit-faced with the aid of spiked ale to even notice the strange way the newcomer's eyes flashed a burning red and gold.

 

 

The barkeeper was petrified with terror when the mysterious man grunted his thanks and moved, the fitting armor with the color of the void barely giving a creak, drowned by the sounds of Thomas snoring and the quiet chink of coins echoing in the inn.

 

* * *

 

 

Outside, where the moon was unveiled and shining brightly, Delios tipped his head skywards with a sigh and in his knapsack two ferrets chittered noisily, each seeming to discuss the amount of pilfered goods they've stashed. A raven circled ahead, black and purple feathers glinting in the moonlight.

 

 

The demon hunter pushed his cowl down and welcomed the soft breeze, scowling a little when the ever present scent of sulphur and blood wafted with it, strong enough to water his burning eyes and like a heavy, slithering snake, settled on his shoulders. Barely there whispers of promised violence and heinous rasps of breath could be heard everywhere, and Delios armed his crossbows with practiced ease, body tense with anticipation.

 

The oil lamps around him suddenly dimmed, leaving only moonlight illuminating his surroundings now. He aimed his crossbow, his head cocking to the side as if in thought, and fired.

 

Delios knew he had struck true when a scream of agony induced fury filled the once peaceful town. Children were ushered inside and windows banged shut, villagers here and there panicked and ran for cover; they knew what was coming. And there, at the edge of the forest, the shadows of an unnatural source bubbled and frothed, where it seemed no light had filtered through the inky darkness. In the midst of its hiding place, two orbs of the most hated of red, full of fire and malice, glared at him. The demon hunter glared right back at it, his own eyes ablaze, teeth baring warningly.

 

New Tristram and that wizard could wait, Delios decided as his target had finally emerged from its hiding place, the demon wearing the skin of a young victim in his adolescence. The demon hunter grit his teeth, rage and disgust fueling his strength as he aimed his crossbow between its eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Somewhere, in the midst of the chaos in New Tristam, the wizard was feeding the last of his spicy chicken strips to an unusually large raven perched on his shoulder, humming to himself as he eyed the cathedral --- where the star had fallen.

 

"He's rather late now, isn't he?" Yong Mu mused, the raven giving a low trill in reply that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Delios was the name for the male demon hunter who went insane in the background story, and since the originally it was intended for a female demon hunter named Valla, I merely switched it. (Go to the website to read each classes' short stories, it's pretty cool.)
> 
> **The female wizard was called Li-Ming, which means 'dawn' in Chinese, "黎明". Having said that, though it sounds pretty funny, I gave the male wizard the opposite: Yong Mu literally means 'a dusk with no end; everlasting dusk/evening', 永暮；initially I played with words like Huang Hun/黄昏 or Yong Ze/永昃, but it didn't sound right. Plus you get to call him "Mu", and if you know about the cow level, then yeah, puns will be made.


End file.
